The Wizard and the Writer
by Shinysavage
Summary: Murder is run of the mill to Richard Castle and Detective Kate Beckett. But when their newest case arrives with some intriguing anomalies, they might have to request help from an entirely new kind of expert. Written for DLP's Secret Santa 2015. Set mid-series Castle season 4, post-White Night for Dresden.
1. Chapter 1

**The Wizard and the Writer**

A Castle/Dresden Files Crossover

Chapter 1:

The Diodati was far too expensive for its corridors to be so dimly lit.

John Aubrey staggered along, the drinks he had had earlier that evening conspiring with the poor lighting to steal his feet from under him. He paused for a moment, leaning up against the wall and closing his eyes. Hell of a day. He just wanted to get back to his bed and rest. Maybe some painkillers for the throbbing in his head – surely he hadn't drunk that much?

It took him a couple of tries to get his card into the lock on his bedroom door, but eventually the thing beeped, and he went inside. He jabbed at the light switch. Nothing happened.

"Jesus Christ…"

He twitched. Was that… "Hey. Is there someone – "

* * *

Richard Castle hopped out of the cab a block away from the crime scene, and set off sauntering down the block with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. Today's murder had hit the sweet spot of arriving early enough not to throw off his writing for the day while late enough that it hadn't thrown off an enjoyably lazy morning either. He loved working the cases, but he sometimes hated the hours.

He strolled through the doors of the Diodati, pausing only to give a jaunty wave to LT, who nodded him through. The uniformed cop was looking a little harassed by the crowd of people around him, and Castle didn't envy him that particular duty. Once in the lobby, Castle made a beeline for the Diodati's café, before making his way up to the fourth floor. The room was easy to spot; crime scene tape didn't exactly blend in with the hotel's tasteful décor.

"Detective Beckett, good morning!"

She turned away from her conversation with Lanie, and shot him the smile that was better than any coffee he'd ever had.

"Hey, Castle. What took you so long?"

"I couldn't show up without bringing you your morning coffee, Detective."

She took the cup from him and sipped it, surprise crossing her face.

"Wow. That's really good. You go to a different place?"

"Downstairs. I haven't had a chance to try it since the new management took over, so I'm grateful really."

"Yeah, very considerate of our victim to give you the opportunity," she said with a pointed smile.

"You know me, Beckett, always trying to find the positives. So, what have we got?"

"You might want to finish your coffee before you take a look…"

He followed her into the room. The Diodati wasn't a five star hotel, at least not yet, but it was certainly aiming to be so, and the rooms reflected that ambition. Castle took a moment to admire the luxurious setting before focusing on the centrepiece.

"I…probably shouldn't have had bacon for breakfast."

The body was easily amongst the worst he had seen in his time working with the squad, more a mess of tattered flesh than anything recognisable as human. Their victim was sprawled on the floor of the living room of the suite, in the middle of a pool of blood. His eyes were still open, and an expression of terror still etched onto his face. Castle shuddered.

"Yeah, it's a nasty one," Beckett said. Her tone belied her words; anyone watching her would have thought the sight hadn't affected her at all. Castle knew better though. He also knew that she wouldn't let anything through until she was back at the precinct, in front of the board. "Cause of death is…pretty obvious, but Lanie's still going to do a full examination. He was found by the maid when she came round to do the turn down. She's being treated for shock before we can take a statement."

"Time of death?"

"He got back here around eleven last night, then hit the bar for a nightcap. Left around midnight, no-one saw him after. Lanie's putting it not long after that though."

"He must have gone somewhere else before he was killed," Castle said.

"How do you figure that?"

"Look at him. The only possible explanation for that kind of injury is a bear attack, and I doubt that would have gone unnoticed even at the most discreet hotel. So, someone lured him out to the woods, set a bear on him, then brought the body back."

"That's a pretty neat theory, Castle," Beckett said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Apart from the fact that we know he died less than an hour after he was seen in the hotel bar, which kinda limits the potential bear attack locations."

"Could have been a tiger cub," Castle suggested. "Small enough to fit into a bag and smuggle out, but still dangerous enough to do this."

Beckett sighed. "Let's not put that forward to Gates."

The mere mention of the Captain was enough to sour Castle's mood, but he put a brave face on it. "I don't know. This might be the one to win her over."

"I doubt it, Castle," Beckett said. "Come on. Ryan and Esposito are talking to the staff. Let's see what they found out."

Castle followed her out of the room, casting a last look at the body. All joking aside, while he'd seen bodies in worse condition due to things like time, he didn't think he'd ever seen someone killed with such brutality. If he put this one in a Nikki Heat book, his publishers would have kittens. He caught up with Beckett at the elevator, and they made their way back down to the lobby. Ryan and Esposito were interviewing in the offices at the back, a long line of maids, waiters and office staff waiting outside for their turn.

"Hey guys," Ryan called, standing up from the waiter he was talking to. "Any more from upstairs?"

"Castle thinks it was a bear attack."

"I can see that, actually," Ryan said, nodding along.

Beckett chose to ignore that. "Have you turned anything up down here?"

"Victim's name is John Aubrey. From out of town, obviously, apparently here on a business trip. Paid with a company credit card, we're running them down. Married to Lucy, we've got people contacting her – Aubrey was in from Chicago."

"Might want to have her identify the body from photos," Castle suggested.

"That's a really useful suggestion, man, thanks," Ryan shot back. "Staff have confirmed that Aubrey was something of a regular – they'd see him every couple of months, at least. He went out last night, no-one knows where, but he was back here by about eleven. After that – "

"Yeah. Couple of drinks at the bar, then – presumably – back to his room. At which point…"

"He gets torn apart," Castle finished. "If he was here every couple of months, that seems a bit unusual for a work schedule – it's too often for conferences and not often enough for office work. Did he have any family here?"

"Not that we know of, but we're still running that down. We do know that he paid on a company card every time he was here."

"Doesn't mean they were legitimate expenses."

"Sad how quickly working with us has turned you cynical," Ryan said. "Or is that the voice of experience talking?"

"Castle's never worked an honest job in his life," Beckett slipped in before Castle could respond. She ignored his protesting look. "Anything on CCTV?"

"We've shipped the tapes back to the precinct for analysis."

"Ok. Castle and I'll head back there and see if anything's turned up yet, and see if any headway's been made with the family. You and Espo finish up here?"

Ryan nodded his assent, turning back to the staff members still waiting for interview.

* * *

Back at the precinct, Castle sat back with a cappuccino while Beckett put together the new murder board. For all that he enjoyed working the cases, he had definite mixed feelings about this ritual. By necessity, it came out of tragedy, but was also the first step towards healing for the relatives and friends. From a certain point of view, he supposed that made Beckett as much a doctor as a detective.

There wasn't yet much to put on there. Two photos of Aubrey, from his driving licence and from the crime scene, fortunately only from the neck up. The beginnings of a timeline, and little else. Beckett capped the marker, and stepped back with a sigh, hands on hips. Castle allowed his eyes to wander a little before she took her seat at her desk.

"So. Any theories yet?"

"Well, discarding your bear idea…you were right about the regularity of his visits. That's definitely a little unusual – although he might simply have stayed at different hotels."

"Maybe," Castle said with a nod. "The Diodati's definitely improved since I was last there."

"How come you know so much about it? You've lived in New York forever, you can't need a hotel that often."

Castle shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Meredith likes it. Well, I assume she still does."

"Meredith?" Beckett cocked her head, then smirked. "Oh, I get it. Good place for a Twinkie binge, huh, Castle?"

"It certainly used to be," he admitted. "I'm trying for a healthier diet these days."

"Are there any ex-wives you haven't hooked up with after the divorce?"

"You make that sound like there's a legion of them!" Castle protested. "There's only two."

"But you have slept with both of them since."

"In fairness, Gina and I _were_ making another go at it," Castle pointed out. Beckett's face went blank, and she swivelled to face the board once more. Castle winced. He couldn't blame her, he didn't much like to dwell on that debacle himself. He cleared his throat. "Anything from the CCTV yet?"

"Nothing much. It doesn't cover every corridor, but we've got Aubrey getting to his floor a little after midnight. Nobody comes or goes after that until around eight, when people start going down for breakfast."

"So…how did the killer get in or out? What other exits are there?"

"There's the stairs, but they're covered by cameras too. Other than that, there's the windows."

"Or they just have a room of their own."

"We've got uniforms canvassing the other guests on the floor," Beckett said. "I'm not sure that'll pan out though."

"How come?"

"The state of his corpse," she said, looking at him expectantly. He thought for a moment, then nodded.

"His killer was frenzied – that suggests that it wasn't premeditated. If the killer booked their own room, they'd probably have been calm enough to finish him off cleanly."

"Exactly," Beckett nodded.

"Could be a bluff."

"Let's rule out the basics before we leap to the crazy."

"I've taught you so little."

Beckett's reply was cut off by the arrival of Ryan and Esposito, the two detectives sinking into their chairs with weary sighs.

"Anything from the staff?" Beckett asked.

Esposito shook his head. "Nothing much. Man, you'd think they'd want us to find out who's whacking their guests. Maybe he wasn't a big tipper."

"Uncooperative?"

"More like they've had their sense of initiative surgically removed," Ryan said. "They answered all our questions, but they didn't volunteer anything."

"Looks like they've kept the old sense of discretion, Castle," Beckett teased, grinning at him. He ignored her, and Ryan and Esposito's questioning looks.

"What about work and family? Any luck there?" Ryan asked, seeing that they weren't going to get an explanation.

"Mrs Aubrey's been contacted," Beckett said. "She's going to fly in, so we'll question her more when she arrives, but she did confirm that he was in town on business. Still trying to get hold of someone actually at his job – which was HR for Chicago Investment. It's a financial advisors. It's a local company, obviously, but apparently they've got links with similar firms in the city here, hence the trip."

Beckett was cut off by the phone on her desk, and Castle took over as she answered.

"CCTV hasn't shown us anything – at the moment, we're assuming the killer either left through a window or was actually staying in the hotel, presumably on the same floor."

Ryan nodded. "Staff _did_ confirm that Aubrey's door only registered keycard use once all night, just after Aubrey left the bar. It wouldn't register the door being opened from the inside, though, so it doesn't mean he didn't let anyone in, or that nobody let themselves out after killing him."

"Ok, thank you." Beckett put the phone down and looked at her team, a tell-tale gleam in her eyes. "That was Aubrey's boss – he didn't know anything about a business trip. Aubrey had this week booked as leave."

"Ooh, lying to the wife. That's a juicy motive right there," Esposito said, sitting up straighter."

"Definitely. Get me some background on the wife; Ryan, look into Aubrey's phone records, see if he was in contact with anyone in the city. Check financials, too – not just personal, look at the company card."

"What about me?" Castle asked.

"We're going to look a little closer at the CCTV from outside the Diodati, see if we can figure out a possible entry or exit for the killer."

"You do realise we're looking at a classic locked room murder mystery," Castle said as he stood up. "I should grow a moustache…"

"I think your little grey cells are probably a bit _too_ small by Poirot's standards," Beckett replied.

"Careful. I'll start writing Nikki Heat more like Miss Marple."

"Great. Then I won't have to suffer through the cheesy sex scenes."

"Oh, I don't know…ow!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When he had started shadowing Beckett and her team, there had been three factors keeping Castle heading into the precinct every day.

The first had been Beckett herself, of course, albeit on a shallower level of attraction than he currently felt. The second had been genuine research – even leaving aside his more-or-less wholesale transplant of Beckett into the world of fiction, the knowledge and insight he had gained into law enforcement had improved his books tenfold, in his opinion (although he was still perfectly happy to trash that research the moment strict accuracy got in the way of a good story: he was eternally frustrated that real life CCTV footage couldn't be enhanced the way he managed in his writing).

The third had been excitement; solving the cases had been like reading a really good thriller. Over the years, that rush had diminished, in part as he started to emphasise more with the victims, and gained better understanding of the killers, (he hadn't been able to derive any enjoyment from thrillers about serial killers since his encounter with 3XK), but there was also a far more prosaic reason.

Sometimes, police work was dull. Soul crushingly dull.

His afternoon had been an excellent case study in this phenomenon. He and Beckett had spent close to three hours trawling CCTV footage from in and around the Diodati; all they had to show for their efforts were too many coffee cups in need of washing and a half-frame long shot of a shadow that might very well have been a trick of the light.

"We've been staring at this for _hours_ , Beckett," he groaned, running his hands through his hair. "We're not going to find anything new, I promise you."

"You never know," the detective said. "Police work is ninety percent hard work…"

"Six percent bad coffee, three percent cheap beer, and one percent luck, I know," Castle finished. He got up from his seat and went to stand next to her in silence for a moment. "Well, it's definitely not a bear," he finally said, squinting theatrically at the image. He let a hint of disappointment into his voice. "Shame. I thought that was an idea with real potential."

"We're all disappointed, Castle," Beckett said, sipping her latest coffee. "Any other thoughts though?"

He took a step back, folding her arms in unconscious mimicry of her habitual posture. The image in question was of the exterior of the hotel. Although focussed on the pertinent side of the building, the camera was aimed too low to see Aubrey's actual room, and if they had had anything better to go off at this stage they wouldn't even have considered the hazy shadow about halfway between the first and second floor.

"Batman?" he finally suggested. "No, wait – symbioute Spider-Man."

"Why not Venom?" Beckett asked with a quirk of her lips. "He'd be far more likely to tear someone up like that."

"Have I ever told you how much I love it when you let your geek out?"

"At least once too often, yes," she said briskly, draining her coffee. Ignoring his pout, she stood up and stretched. "Come on. Let's see if the boys have got anything yet."

* * *

For the moment, it appeared that they had very little.

"Ok, so the guys at Chicago Investment sent over the statement for Aubrey's company card," Ryan said, spreading a pile of paper on the table before him, "and we got his absence records – vacation and sick leave. There's not much crossover, not enough to flag an investigation anyway, but a few dates do match up."

"Didn't they wonder when they saw he was using it on his time off?" Beckett asked, casting her eyes over the papers. Castle knew she would probably end up going over them herself in excruciating detail, but for the moment she would trust her partners' judgement.

"Yeah, but they figured it was acceptable levels," Esposito said. "Sounds like they deal with a lot of bull expenses claims, but Aubrey was pretty good about it – never claimed for work lunches, for example. They figured it was a fair trade. Bet they're regretting that now, the boss won't be happy!"

Beckett nodded absently; Castle could practically see the cogs of her formidable mind working, looking for all the possible angles. "Were all his trips to New York?"

"He'd go to other places, but this was his main one. A few trips to Detroit, a few to Baltimore, one or two to Boston."

"Have we got his personal finances? It'd be interesting to see if he used the same standard of hotel on his personal trips."

"Not yet, but he didn't always use the Diodati when he was here." Ryan flicked through his notes. "Didn't stay there before…April last year. Since then, if he's been in New York, he's stayed there exclusively. He didn't use the same standard of hotel on trips to other cities."

"Ok," Beckett said, putting the papers down. "I'm thinking he met someone, and the Diodati was their rendezvous of choice. We'll talk to the wife when she comes in."

"She should have landed by now," Esposito said. "Uniforms were picking her up and taking her to the morgue."

"Then that's where we'll be. Castle?"

* * *

No two reactions were quite the same, to Castle's eyes. The broad points, of course – shocked silence, explosive tears – but grief struck with infinite subtle nuances. For Mrs Lucy Aubrey, it struck her hard, and she crumpled. Castle stood with Beckett, watching her as Lanie peeled back the sheet. Standing next to the officer, Mrs Aubrey's whole body sagged, as if something vital had just vanished. She nodded, once, and Lanie re-covered the body. Mrs Aubrey turned away, and Beckett moved to join her. Castle stayed where he was. It was a judgement call. Sometimes he would sit in on these discussions, and other times he would just watch. He didn't think Mrs Aubrey was ready for his brand of semi-official questions just yet.

Lanie caught his eye, and he headed into the room.

"Tell me you've got something juicy for us."

"Ironically, it's almost the opposite," she said. "I haven't done the full autopsy yet, so I'm not one hundred percent on the cause of death, but there's hardly any blood in him."

"You did see the crime scene, right?" Castle asked. "Most of the blood was on the carpet. And the walls."

"Not enough to explain this," Lanie countered. "I'd say a lot of his blood got drained."

"That's so gross! I love it. Did you check for puncture marks on his neck?"

Lanie rolled her eyes and turned back to the body. "Just let Beckett know, ok?"

"You didn't answer!"

* * *

Back at the precinct, Beckett was sipping another coffee, staring at the murder board in silence. Castle took his customary seat next to her, not wanting to disturb her train of thought.

"She said that she thought there had been an affair," Beckett said after a moment, not moving her gaze. "Said she didn't really mind. He was a good guy, he loved her. She wasn't going to complain if he 'fulfilled needs she couldn't' with someone else."

"Ah." There was a slightly awkward silence. "It's not…well, it's not unheard of. It can be quite a healthy way of working round a problem, if everyone's happy with it."

"Yeah?" Beckett turned to him, one eyebrow raised. "You a fan of open relationships, Castle?"

"I think they're fine in principle but they're not to my taste. I'm a one-woman man."

Beckett smiled, lowering her eyes to her coffee, and Castle's heart skipped a painful beat as he realised the potential implications of saying that while looking her in the eyes. If only she remembered…

"Most of the time, I mean," he continued, affecting a cheeky grin. "I remember this one time, before I met Gina…"

Beckett rolled her eyes. "Nice."

"I know you value the insight into the life of your favourite author."

"Not sure I'd say favourite."

"You're on the fan forums, I must be up there."

She ignored that, and he grinned at the little victory.

"Anything to clue us in on who this mystery woman – or man – might be?"

"Not yet," Beckett said, shaking her head. "Ryan and Esposito should have something from his personal finances soon though. Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Maybe. Lanie thinks she might have something interesting though."

"Already?"

"Yeah. There wasn't enough blood in Aubrey's body."

"Well yeah," she said. "It was everywhere else."

"That's exactly what I said!" Castle said, excitied. "But she thinks his blood had been drained."

Beckett frowned, and turned back to the board, uncapping a marker pen to make a note. "That doesn't fit with the frenzy of the attack…"

"I suggested vampires, but she ignored me."

"We already know vampires don't exist, Castle, remember?"

"Heh, that was a weird one," Castle said, his tone wistful with reminiscence.

"I don't remember seeing you panic as much as you did when you thought he'd bitten you," Beckett said with a snigger.

"He did bite me," Castle pointed out. "He didn't feed though. And you should have seen me when you got…" He tailed off, not wanting to stir up old wounds both literal and metaphorical. Beckett gave him a look.

"You can say 'shot', Castle. I'm not going to fall apart."

"Sorry." Despite her words though, Castle couldn't help but feel that his words had unsettled Beckett somehow. He might almost have said she was feeling guilty, but not even Beckett was enough of an emotional mess to feel guilty for having been shot.

"Anyway. Maybe the frenzy was to cover up something else?"

"Could be," she said, a flash of relief going across her face. "I think we need to know a bit more about his company. I can't believe that they were just totally ok with him abusing his card like that. He must have pissed someone off."

"Does that mean we're going to Chicago?" Castle said, sitting up like an excited puppy. "The Windy City, Al Capone, Prohibition…"

"No," she said flatly. "No need. I know a cop over there, she can do me a favour. She likes the weird ones too."

She picked up her phone and dialled a number. "Hello? This is Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. I'm trying to reach Lieutenant Karrin Murphy…"

As she sat there, waiting to be connected, Ryan returned, bearing a sheaf of paper and a satisfied expression. Beckett looked at him expectantly, splitting her attention.

"We've got a nice little dinner date last night. Aubrey paid for food at a Turkish restaurant downtown. Esposito's running it down now."

"He might have dined alone," Castle pointed out.

"Two hundred dollars? Either he's got the appetite of a horse or it's a stupidly expensive restaurant," Ryan shot back.

"I've blown that on a meal in my wilder days," Castle admitted.

"Yeah, but you're a bestselling playboy writer, not middle management at an accounting firm," Ryan said.

"True."

"Oh, hey Karrin…"

Beckett turned away slightly as her friend answered. Castle watched with interest as a grin appeared on the detective's face.

"Yeah, I've been back a few months…you know, there's never any shortage of nuts just waiting for us to take 'em down. How's Chicago?" Her face fell a little. "They busted you down? Jesus, Karrin, I'm sorry. What happened?" Her eyes flicked up to stare at Castle for a moment. "Yeah, I know all about long stories. You ok?" There was a pause. "We've got a body, guy named John Aubrey. He's in town from Chicago, and I'm a little curious about his employers, Chicago Investment. You know anything about them? That'd be great, I appreciate it. No, we're still waiting on the final results from the autopsy. It was pretty grim though, he got torn apart like an animal attacked him. Our M.E thinks his blood had been drained too, but we're not convinced by that yet."

She frowned at the response to that, and shifted the phone to her shoulder for a moment. "Castle, what precisely did Lanie say to you?"

"Uh, there wasn't enough blood?"

Beckett spoke into the phone again, relaying that. "Why, does that mean something to you? Oh, ok. Well, thanks, Karrin. Speak soon." She hung up, and sat looking at the phone, a troubled expression on her face.

"What's wrong?" Castle asked.

"I think this case might be getting a little complicated. Pretty sure she was lying about something there," Beckett said. Most people wouldn't have been able to tell, but Castle could identify the tightly controlled anger bubbling beneath the surface. Dirty and incompetent cops were Beckett's berserk button; it sounded as if there was a distinct possibility her Christmas card list would have shrunk by a name if this Murphy really was lying to her. Not that Castle doubted for a moment that she was. Beckett didn't get that sort of thing wrong.

"So what do we do now?" Ryan asked.

"We wait for Esposito," Beckett said, looking up. "I'm not going to go looking for conspiracies before we need to."

* * *

An hour or so later, the team was gathered around a screen viewing data from the DMV. A photo of a young woman hung there, enlarged for better study. She was pretty, delicate features framed by vibrant red curls. It was her jade eyes that most captured Castle's interest though; even through the slightly grainy photo, they seemed to ring with vitality.

"So this is Claudia Rice," Esposito informed them from his position leaning against a desk. "No idea yet _how_ she knows Aubrey, but they were definitely dining together last night. They arrived at 'Mehmed's' at five past six, and left at quarter past eight. There's no footage of them during the meal itself, but we've got shots of them arriving and leaving, and a few at the bar, that kinda thing."

"She looks a little out of his league," Ryan commented, a faintly impressed expression on his face. Esposito nodded his agreement.

"A _lot_ out of his league. If this girl ain't a model, there's something wrong with the world."

"It's so good to see the discretion and tact that our public services are known for," Castle said with a grin, looking sidelong at Beckett.

"Please, we've all heard you after one of your hot dates. What _do_ we know about her?"

"Born in New Orleans, but she's been living here for a couple of years," Ryan said, clicking the display through to another screen. "No record of employment in about eight years, prior to that mostly bar work."

"Ok. Bring her in."

* * *

Looking at Rice through the two-way mirror, it was obvious that a few things had changed since her DMV photo had been taken. The most obvious were the faint tracings of tattoos covering one side of her face, thick lines that looked to Castle as if they might once have been filled with colour. Perhaps a wilder phase over the last few years, he wondered? It might explain the connection to Aubrey. It was hardly unusual for older executives to be attracted to eye-catching, pretty young women, after all.

The other, more subtle difference was in her eyes. Where her photo had suggested vitality, in person they were cool, calculating, and suspicious.

"She came along without any fuss," Beckett said. "No questions, complete co-operation…"

"You sound surprised."

"She didn't. Which is unusual for innocent parties when the cops show up."

"So you like her for it?"

Beckett hesitated. "I…don't know. I can't see her doing something like that. Not yet, at least."

Castle agreed. Rice was only a little bigger than Alexis, although she must have had over a decade on her. The mess of blood and bones that had been John Aubrey had needed a lot of brute strength and anger. And maybe an axe. Perhaps it was that knowledge which left him feeling a little on edge as they moved in to question her. He took his seat carefully, not wanting to take his eyes off her. He'd sat across this table from some very scary people over the last few years, but people capable of that kind of violence were few and far between.

Rice said nothing, staring at them in silence.

"Sorry about the delay, Miss Rice," Beckett said, placing her folder down between them. "This is Mr Castle, he's consulting with us."

"Richard Castle, yes," Rice said. The drawl she must have been born with was only barely noticeable, and if Castle hadn't already known she hailed from the big easy, he probably wouldn't have picked up on it. He nodded acknowledgement of her remark, and smiled politely.

"Miss Rice."

"Am I going to end up in one of your books?" She seemed faintly amused by the idea.

"You never know," Castle said, beginning to understand why Beckett had her doubts about the younger woman. She was far too collected under the circumstances.

"Miss Rice, we'd like to ask you a few questions about John Aubrey."

Rice's eyes flicked back to Beckett with a flash of wariness. "What about him?"

"So you did know him?"

Was that an irritated tightening of the eyes? "Yeah, I know him."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"Last night," she said, after a moment of hesitation. "What's this about?"

"I'm afraid Mr Aubrey is dead," Beckett said softly. He agreed with the approach; guilty or not, Rice did not seem like the kind of woman who would be intimidated by directness. In fact, her eyes widened and she sat up a little straighter.

"What? What happened? When?"

Beckett filled her in on the salient information, not going into too much detail just yet. It would be worth hanging on to that ploy for a while in case they needed something big to give her a jolt, now or in subsequent interviews.

"Are you sure it's him? I could identify the body if you need…"

That _was_ unusual, Castle thought, making a quick note. It wasn't often people were so eager to see a body, even if there did seem to be a legitimate reason for it. Fortunately though, Beckett was quick to exploit the offer.

"I'm not sure that's necessary, Miss Rice. Or a good idea. His wife's already identified him."

That had shocked her, only briefly, but it had shocked her. "His…oh."

"Did you know Mr Aubrey was married?"

She nodded.

"Did it bother you?"

"Why would it have done?"

Beckett leaned back in her chair, wearing a sardonic smile. "It looks to us like there might have been something a little more than friendship between you and Aubrey."

Rice shrugged. "There is…was."

"And the fact he was married wasn't an issue?"

"It didn't bother him." She sighed, and elaborated. "We weren't...we weren't serious. We only saw each other once every few months."

"How did the two of you meet?

"I was tending bar at the Diodati last year. He was nice."

"Really?" Beckett said, leafing through her folder. "The last record of any employment for you is eight years ago."

Rice smiled faintly. "It probably wasn't strictly legal employment. There's a reason the owners went bust."

"Is that why you left?"

"They wanted me to move into the kitchen. I preferred front of house."

"Enough to quit over?" Beckett sounded sceptical.

"I don't stay anywhere for too long. How is this relevant?"

"We have to cover all our bases, Miss Rice," came Beckett's practiced, blandly uninformative answer.

"By which you mean that if I don't tell you, you waste a few days digging it up so that you can check it without my co-operation, which just wastes time you could be using to catch the killer?"

"Essentially, yes," Beckett agreed. Castle looked at her in surprise. She wouldn't normally talk like that with a suspect. She simply looked down at her notes for a moment, before looking back at Rice. "Where did you go after your dinner with Aubrey?"

"I wasn't feeling great. I headed home. He was going to too."

"He didn't get back to his hotel for another couple of hours," Beckett informed her. "Can anyone corroborate your statement?"

"I…no, I don't think so."

"No doorman?" Rice shook her head. Beckett was preparing to ask another question when the door opened. Esposito poked his head round, a stressed look on his face.

"Beckett, need a word."

She glared at him – she hated being thrown off her rhythm with suspects – but got up. Castle followed suit. Esposito was back in the bullpen, waiting with Ryan by their desk. He was holding a phone, which he offered to Beckett. Castle slid in next to the two men, looking quizzically at them. Ryan just shrugged.

"Beckett. Hey Lanie…what do you mean, the body's _gone_?"


End file.
